


this woman is my destiny

by BladedDarkness



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7006444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladedDarkness/pseuds/BladedDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex has hated the mark since she was fifteen.</p>
<p>General Danvers Week 1, Day 7: Soulmates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this woman is my destiny

Alex has hated the mark since she was fifteen and she watched her mother fall apart.

 

She knows it is the viewpoint of a child, that the mark isn’t what makes the loss of her father so painful to her mother. She knows that the mark is really a symbol of the love between the two, and that it isn’t what makes the loss hurt so much, that the love is responsible. She believes that their love would have happened regardless of any soul marks, if this was a world where none exist at all. 

 

But Alex hates it for what it represents, knowing that one day she will have her own mark, will love someone so absolutely and completely that it will break her when she loses them. And she will have no control over any of it.

 

\-----

 

Alex and Kara don’t talk about soul marks until Alex turns eighteen and her wrist darkens. She wraps the traditional leather band around it before anyone other than Kara can see.

 

“When will yours come in? You said Kryptonians aren’t considered adults until they’re twenty-five.” Alex is considered an adult now. Even if she was in another time zone and still seventeen due to the difference, people would have to recognize the mark on her arm as one of adulthood. She wonders how Kara will make it in the world to twenty-five without a mark. But, Kara technically doesn’t exist anyways; she is truly an alien in this land.

 

But Kara shakes her head. “We get them at eighteen, but we have those long betrothals until we complete our trials, remember?”

 

That makes sense, for Superman has always had a special band around his own wrist, over his suit. Alex scowls. “It sucks. You aren’t an adult on Krypton until you’re twenty-five, and I have to wait until then to get mine removed here.”

 

Kara opens her mouth, stunned, but Alex leaves the room. She doesn’t want to hear what Krypton would think about her decision. She’s already made up her mind.

 

Alex has six months after her birthday to register her mark. She waits until the time is almost up. It’s another form of identification for the government, the same as the information on your driver’s license or your fingerprints. Stamps are custom-made so people can sign documents with their mark.

 

Alex sees registration as yet another way to tie her to a future she doesn’t want. She’s just grateful the government doesn’t try to matchmake with the information.

 

\-----

 

No one knows where the marks come from. Some say they come from God, his final gift to mankind, but Alex knows better because Krypton had them too. Some people believe they’re from aliens, but Alex knows that is bullshit (“They come from Rao,” Kara says when she asks, which just tells Alex that aliens don’t have a clue either).

 

What everyone does agree on is that they seem to be otherworldly, supernatural, designed by something greater than the mortals. There’s crackpots that claim you can tell where the mark came from by the design, whether the mark has swirls or spikes. There are zealots that demonize and spout propagandized percentages to push their beliefs, about how a certain shape is an indicator of being touched by the devil, of being a homosexual, of being a criminal. The list is endless and Alex wonders how it would be different if the marks didn’t exist for people to fixate on.

 

Alex knows the myths that go around high schools to tease people with strange or unusual marks, especially if the design is shared by another. She keeps her leather band on tightly and punches the first boy that tries to pry it off her wrist.

 

\-----

 

Kara turns eighteen, and no mark appears. After a few days, Eliza insists that she puts a band on anyways, so that she doesn’t stick out.

 

Kara turns nineteen, and still her wrist remains bare. 

 

“You didn’t tell me you were thirteen to seem cooler, did you? I would have hung out with a little eleven year old punk,” Alex teases, but Kara doesn’t smile.

 

Instead, she grows more despondent as her twentieth birthday passes by.

 

“Look at this way, Kara, you’ve got the whole world out there waiting for you. Free will and all,” Alex urges. “There’s nothing tying you to anyone -”

 

“Stop it,” Kara mutters, and Alex realizes it was the wrong thing to say. Kara rolls over in the bed, back facing Alex. “You don’t understand. On Krypton, not having a soul mark -” Kara cuts herself off, but the sadness is palpable in the silence between them.

 

Kara’s soul mark never appears, and Alex hates the mark all over again, because the idea that Kara is destined to be alone, after having lost everything? Alex can’t accept that.

 

\-----

 

Alex files her removal petition as soon as she turns twenty-five. It will take months to go through, and she’ll likely have to talk with specialized counselors about just why she wants it removed. She’s tempted to get it done illegally - she’s toyed with the idea over the years - but she always tempers the desire because the legal ramifications would be an even bigger headache and the resulting scrutiny wouldn’t be fair to Kara.

 

\-----

 

Nearly eleven months later - she could have had a baby in less time, thank you, bureaucracy - Alex gets her approval papers.

 

She’s already picked out the place. It has a good reputation spanning back several years and is one of the few places in the area that have a permit for soul mark removal.

 

Still, when she steps inside, the place isn’t quite what she was expecting.  There’s beautiful designs on the walls, but the place is empty except for a woman sorting some items behind the counter.

 

Alex takes a moment to study her. The woman is as tall as Kara, with dark hair save for one lock, and though Alex suspects she knows she’s there, she doesn’t acknowledge her until Alex clears her throat.

 

The woman smiles. “Ah, a brave one.” Alex quirks an eyebrow. “Most people come in several times before they work up the nerve to get my attention,” she explains. “You’re a newcomer though. What can I do for you?”

 

Alex slides the paperwork across the counter. 

 

The woman looks at it closely. “You’re sure then?”

 

Alex nods.

 

“I’ll need to see some identification.” She flicks her eyes quickly at her driver license. “Very well, Alexandra.”

 

“Alex.”

 

“Alex,” she corrects. “I’m Astra. Take a seat over there.” Astra quickly sets up the station.

 

Alex pulls off her band and offers up her wrist.

 

“Your mark,” Astra starts, clearing her throat. “It suits you.”

 

Alex snorts. “If you say so.”

 

Astra trails her fingertips over the mark lightly, then swabs it. “You’re aware that there’s no undoing this, correct?”

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

It’s supposed to be painful, from what Alex has read online, but even as the machine buzzes to life over her skin, it feels more like someone scratching their nails gently against her wrist. The skin is sensitive there, thanks to the band and lack of touch.

 

“I don’t do these very often,” comments Astra, shifting the machine and turning Alex’s wrist. “Not many people request them.” She hums a bit. “I get more requests for cover-ups and modifications.”

 

“Those are illegal.”

 

Astra laughs softly. “Quite. I’ve always turned them away.” She wipes at Alex’s wrist. “Most of the people who want their mark removed are older. They’ve already lost their soul mate and the reminder is too painful.” She looks at Alex.

 

Alex grins. “You’re fishing.”

 

“I’m naturally curious.”

 

Alex shakes her head. “It’s nothing so tragic. I just hate what these things stand for.”

 

Astra furrows her brow. “Love?”

 

“No, the fact that fate, the universe, some supreme being… aliens,” she chuckles at Astra’s wide eyes, “whatever you believe, controls us. That we don’t have the right to choose who we love.”

 

“And what if you choose wrong?”

 

“Then I’ll still have made my choice.”

 

“Are you ready for the consequences? The judgement?”

 

Alex scowls. “Excuse me?”

 

“Where I’m from,” Astra starts slowly, “not having a soul mark means you have no purpose. Nothing to contribute. Useless.”

 

Alex thinks of Kara and swallows. Was that similar to how Krypton treated those with no mark? She’d always thought that Kara’s desperation to be helpful was because she felt so bad about the repression of her powers - was it really as simple as Kara needing to feel, to  _ be _ useful because she had no mark to indicate otherwise?

 

“I get it,” Alex says gruffly. “My… my sister’s mark never came in.”

 

The pain in Alex’s voice must tip her off that this is not as happy of an occasion as Alex would like. Astra dips her head, mutters something that sounds like a prayer under her breath. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s stupid. Her mark never appears and I can’t wait to get rid of mine.”

 

Astra looks away, turning off the machine. “You’re not wrong. About fate being cruel.” She presses a salve then a bandage to Alex’s wrist. “You need to sign the paperwork, Brave One.”

 

Alex follows her to the counter, pays, and takes the aftercare salve from Astra. She passes the paper back to Astra after jotting her name down. Astra takes her time, pressing her stamp after her signature. Alex doesn’t bother to look at it - all her documentation is already in order. This is the last of it.

 

Alex folds the paper up and shoves it in her pocket hastily. “So, um.” Alex scratches her head. “Would you like to have dinner sometime?”

 

“I,” Astra breaks off, looking down at her own wrist. She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

 

Alex rolls her eyes. “Whatever,” she mutters, slamming the door open as she leaves.

 

\-----

 

She’s humming happily, paperwork on the counter, when Kara enters their apartment.

 

“You’re cooking?” Kara asks, then her eyes land on Alex’s bandage. “Oh.” She shuffles in place, picking at her own band, and Alex presses a hand against the sudden pit of guilt in her stomach. She’s not like Kara, not about this. She can’t be.

 

Kara sighs. “Alex, don’t let me spoil your mood. You wanted this, so we can celebrate.”

 

“I’m sorry,” says Alex, because none of this fair. They aren’t fair to each other about this. She takes a step away from the stove, arms already half-open for a Danvers sisters hug special, but Kara waves her off, unfolding the paperwork on the bar.

 

Kara goes pale (which is alarming as she’s Kryptonian), then her eyes widen.

 

“What?” If her paperwork is screwed up - 

 

“That’s… that’s my aunt’s name,” Kara mumbles, holding the paper loosely.

 

“What?” Alex snatches it from her, eyes tracking down to Astra’s signature. Then she swears. Repeatedly.

 

Because the stamp next to the signature of Astra In-Ze is… was, Alex’s mark.

 

\-----

 

She slams back through Astra’s door with as much force as when she left.

 

“What the hell is this?” Alex demands, slamming the paper on the counter.

 

Astra isn’t looking at her though. She’s furrowing her brow as Kara takes tentative steps towards her. Then the confusion changes to disbelief. “Kara?”

 

Kara rushes forward, squeezing Astra tighter than she has been able to hug anyone before.

 

There are tears in Astra’s eyes when she finally pulls back and cups Kara’s cheek. “How did you find me?”

 

“Alex is my sister.”

 

She sees Astra’s face flash with surprise, then her eyes flicker down to Kara’s wrist with such sadness before she composes herself, but Kara is already turning away and furious.

 

“You  _ told _ her?” Not just angry. Hurt.

 

It flashes through her mind again, what Astra said about soul marks. She sucks in a breath. “Kara,” Alex pleads.

 

Almost as one, they both reach out for her, but Kara shies away from their hands, folding in on herself. She sprints out the door before they can stop her, but it’s clear when they race after her that Kara probably bolted down the alley behind the building and flew off.

 

Alex groans, pressing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. “Come on.”

 

Astra raises an eyebrow. 

 

Alex scowls. “Kara and I share an apartment. She’ll be back sooner or later and we need to talk anyways.” She gestures angrily at Astra’s wrist.

 

“I was under the impression that there was nothing to talk about,” Astra sniffs, but she follows anyways after grabbing Alex’s paperwork and locking the shop.

 

\-----

 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Alex manages to ask after they’ve sat on opposite ends of her couch for five minutes.

 

“You came to me because you wanted it removed. Not because you were hoping to find your soul mate.” Astra pulls her band off and drops it on the coffee table. 

 

Alex throws her head back, staring up at the ceiling because she can’t bear to look at Astra’s exposed wrist. “And then I ask you out. We shared a soul mark. I didn’t know. And you’re my sister’s aunt. What the  _ hell _ ,” she mutters. “What were you going to do if I didn’t notice?” She lolls her head to watch Astra.

 

Astra shrugs. “I have been alone for so long already. Decades, Alexandra.”

 

Alex doesn’t bother to correct her this time. There’s knowledge behind her pull towards Astra now, and it scares her.

 

“My niece.” Astra closes her eyes, face contorting in such a way that it takes a few seconds for Alex to realize it’s heartbreak. Not for herself, but Kara. “She truly has no mark?” Alex shakes her head. Astra’s eyes are still closed, but she must hear her, for she slumps in her seat. “Oh, Little One,” she murmurs softly.

 

“What do we do now?” Alex asks after several minutes of silence.

 

“I will not leave Kara. Not again, no matter what,” Astra affirms, straightening, and Alex remembers that Kara once told her that her aunt was among the elite of Krypton’s military. She fixes her eyes on Alex’s, freezing her in place. “So all that is left is that you must make your choice.”

 

Alex swallows roughly, entirely unsure.

**Author's Note:**

> This is it. My final entry for General Danvers Week 1. It's been a blast and a struggle writing something for each day, but I'm glad to have done it. It's been my pleasure.
> 
> I won't be posting something for Day 8: Creator's Choice, so I'll be back to working on my regular stories next week.


End file.
